


Mangle My Mind

by pherber



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherber/pseuds/pherber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is not a big fan of night clubs and at this one, he is more than a little out of his depth. Luckily, Courfeyrac is there to step in and save the day. As a friend, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mangle My Mind

Courfeyrac scanned the room with mild disappointment as he sat down on the bar stool. From the girls in their tiny dresses and quite frankly impressive heels to the guys in their football jerseys, this was pretty far from his usual scene. Not that Courfeyrac gave a damn what anyone wore or how they looked but he still doubted that he’d have much in common with the patrons in this particular club. And he doubted even more that Enjolras would. He kept his eyes on the coatroom, where his friend was currently cueing to hang in their jackets. Suddenly, two Martini glasses was shoved in front of him and Courfeyrac turned with a smile towards the bartender, whose hair matched the electric blue liquid in the drinks.

“See anything you like?” Jehan asked as he popped an extra cherry in Courf’s glass.

“No, not even a little. Remind me again what the hell I’m doing in this place, Jehan.”

“You’re here because you’re a cheap moocher who just wants free drinks under the pretence of visiting me at work.”

“Well, yeah, I knew that.” Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “I mean, why couldn’t you work in a gay club?”

“Because there are only two decent ones in this god forsaken town and the last thing I want to do when I go there is stand behind the bar.”

“Gotcha” Courfeyrac reached for his drink, but unfortunately forgot to take into account the two cherries swimming in the glass. As he tried to drink, he inevitably spilled and the blue liquid trickled down his neck to his white shirt.

Jehan eyed him suspiciously. “Are you drunk already?”

“A little” Courfeyrac answered, plucking the cherries out of his glass and putting them both in his mouth. “Enjolras’s parents are in town and we had dinner with them tonight. You know the only way to get through those is by drinking at least one bottle of wine each.”

“Oh, I see. I only met his parents once and that was enough. I don’t envy you” Jehan stated as he handed Courf some napkins. “So, where is our golden boy?”

“Hanging in our coats. Or possibly hiding, considering how long he’s taking” Courfeyrac sighed as he surveyed the crowd once again, not missing the appreciative looks and even winks that he got from various girls around the bar. Then he turned back to Jehan. “Seriously though, I don’t know how you can stand it, there’s honestly not one good looking guy in sight.”

Jehan opened his mouth to answer but then his eyes caught on something behind Courfeyrac’s head and he grinned. “I have a feeling that those women would disagree with you” he snickered and nodded his head in the direction of the dance floor.

Courfeyrac spun around to see a cluster of high heeled girls dancing and grinding in a group on the centre of the dance floor. And in the middle of that group he caught sight of an unmistakable mop of blond curls. Enjolras looked to be frozen in panic. Oh, Christ, he literally held his hands up like he was at risk of being shot.

Courfeyrac shook his head. “I’m gonna have to go and rescue him, aren’t I?”

Jehan couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice. “What make you say that? It looks like he’s doing fine to me.”

Courfeyrac threw his napkins in Jehan’s amused face before downing the last of his drink and venturing out in the jungle of sequins and cheap perfume to save his friend.

He weaved his way through the crowd, ignoring the fluttering lashes and meaningfully raised eyebrows sent in his direction. He had his goal set firmly on the hopelessly awkward blonde boy in the red t-shirt. Enjolras was standing still as a statue while a quite young looking girl was moving against him in a way that Courfeyrac couldn’t possibly categorize as dancing. As he got closer, he caught Enjolras’s gaze and the look of absolute relief and gratitude that settled on his friend’s face made something turn in Courfeyrac’s stomach. Something which all the seductive looks from the women around them had failed to stir up. He ignored it for the time being and focused on getting Enjolras out of his current predicament.

He made his way up the strange pair and leaned towards the girl. “Mind if I cut in?”

She looked up at him and he gave his best flirtatious smile. She smiled back and immediately disentangled herself from Enjolras and put her hands around Courf’s neck instead. “Sure, he was kind of boring anyway” she giggled.

As they backed away into the crowd of girls, Courfeyrac met Enjolras’s eyes over her shoulder. His friend drew a breath of relief and mouthed ‘Thank you’. Courfeyrac smiled back and kept the eye contact as he started to move along with the beat. The girl turned out to be quite a good dancer when paired with a partner who actually moved. Soon enough, Courfeyrac found himself lost in the music. He loved to dance. He loved to just let go of everything and let the beat take him wherever it wanted.

And to be honest, it was always better when he had someone to dance with. This girl might not fit his usual preference but it didn’t really matter. It all felt so much more natural when he had somebody to move along with. He knew very well that there were people who might wrinkle their noses at him; who might call him promiscuous. He didn’t care. At their usual clubs, Courfeyrac had made somewhat of name of himself. He was the guy who could always be found in the middle of the dance floor, and almost always together with some other guy. It was usually different ones every week. Sometimes he went home with them but most times they just danced. It was true that they all seemed to fit a certain description; tall, slender and blond each time.

But that didn’t mean anything. So he had a type, that was normal. And if one of his best friends just happened to fit that criteria, well, that wasn’t really his fault at all. But he wasn’t going to think about that right now. He’d spent too many nights closing his eyes and thinking about Enjolras and he knew that it wouldn’t change anything. He’d still be the one on the centre of the dance floor, following the rhythm in time with someone whose name he didn’t know. And Enjolras would still be the one standing at the bar, sipping a drink and engaging in a discussion with Combeferre or Feuilly or whoever else that might be willing to debate instead of drinking and dancing.

Courfeyrac tried to keep his eyes away from Enjolras’s general direction. He couldn’t bear to look at him right now. Not when he knew what that gaze could do to him. Besides, his friend had most likely grasped at the opportunity to make his escape from the terrifying scene of the dance floor and gone to ensnare Jehan in some sort of political discussion. As hard as Courfeyrac tried, it just wasn’t as easy to take his mind off Enjolras when the person moving along with him was five foot three and had long, brown hair. It made it a lot more difficult to pretend. Without really meaning to, Courfeyrac found himself scanning the crowd cautiously. And as always, without actually having to try, his eyes seemed to be automatically drawn to the only source of light in the room; that head of bright, golden curls. He was surprised to find that Enjolras had barely moved an inch from where Courfeyrac had left him. He was less surprised, and more worried, to find the reason why. Enjolras was once again caught in the claws of some eager woman. Only, this one was much more of a woman than a girl. And she seemed a lot more determined to catch her prey than the one Courfeyrac had relieved Enjolras from.

He realized that it was once again up to him to help his friend. He made an excuse to the girl he was dancing with and started on his second trip through the crowded space in order to reach Enjolras. Once he did, Enjolras gave him a look that was more panicked than relieved. The woman in front of him was clad in a tight leopard print dress and she looked absolutely predatory as she bit her dark red painted lips. Courfeyrac felt the need to intervene as quickly as possible and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry, but he’s taken” he said, loud enough to be heard over the music. The woman turned to him with an annoyed look.

“Hey, go mind your own business.” She said harshly. Then she turned to Enjolras, snaking her well manicured fingers around his neck, making Courfeyrac grit his teeth in anger. That’s right, not jealousy, anger.

“I don’t see your girlfriend anywhere around and I can be very discreet, trust me” she said to a visibly uncomfortable Enjolras.

Courfeyrac was at a loss as to what he was supposed to do. He only knew that he needed to get Enjolras away from there before the poor boy had a heart attack. But before he had a chance to intervene, and to his great surprise, Enjolras took matters into his own hands. Courfeyrac barely had a chance to process what was happening before he felt Enjolras’s arms pulling him close.

“I’m sorry, but he’s right. I am taken actually. This is my boyfriend.” Suddenly, Courfeyrac felt a wet kiss on his cheek and he saw the leopard clad lady purse her lips in a slightly aggravated expression as she turned away from them.

Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras in surprise. “Wow, nicely done” he laughed. “Uhm, do you wanna get out of here or…”

“Dance with me.” Enjolras answered, a fierce determination in his eyes that made Courfeyrac swallow hard.

He didn’t have time to respond before he felt Enjolras stepping closer to him and beginning to move along with the music. Courfeyrac had to suppress a gasp as a pair of hands settled on his waist. The music was good, he had to admit that. Soon enough, he found his body moving in time with the rhythm. And, though he could barely believe it, so was Enjolras’s. Courfeyrac wasn’t sure which one of them moved closer but within seconds they were dancing so close that they were practically touching from head to toe. Courfeyrac didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where Enjolras was going with this and he had to fight with everything he had not to lose control. God, he just wanted to grab Enjolras and grind against him. He wanted to thread his hand in that blonde hair and kiss him until the drinks weren’t the only thing that made the room spin. He wanted to do all the things that he usually did with the other boys he danced with, all the things he did with his eyes closed while pretending that they were someone else.

Only now, Courfeyrac found it impossible to close his eyes. He couldn’t stop staring at the contour of Enjolras’s face, just to affirm to himself that this was really his best friend and not some second rate substitute. It all felt a little too amazing to be real. And god, he had no idea that Enjolras could dance like this. He was good. Better than good. Moving flawlessly, not only in time with the beat but matching Courfeyrac’s movements perfectly as well. Courfeyrac tried to let go of his inhibitions and just follow along. Which is why he wasn’t at all prepared when Enjolras suddenly shifted, pressing his legs in between Courf’s own. He really hoped that the involuntary noise he made was swallowed up by the music. He didn’t have a chance to worry about it though, as he felt Enjolras’s hot breath against his neck.

Okay, he decided. This was too much to be just a show to prove a point to the girls. Still, he'd never seen Enjolras like this and the instinct to protect his friend at all cause was always at the top of his head. “Enjolras” he said, wanting to at least give him a chance to explain himself, or back out if he wanted to. The only response he got, however, was a pair of hands gripping him tightly and the feeling of soft lips nipping at his throat.

“Shit” he whispered, throwing his head back. Enjolras’s mouth followed eagerly, now sucking the skin of his neck. This was too much to handle. It was simply impossible to try to keep his reason right now and Courfeyrac decided to just let go. He lifted his arms, which had been hanging awkwardly by his sides and put them around Enjolras’s waist, not even caring that he raised the other boy’s shirt in the middle of a club full of people.

Enjolras didn’t seem to mind either and eagerly responded by moving upwards, planting a kiss on Courf’s jawbone. And that was it. Courfeyrac felt like all restraint he might have had just slipped away. He lowered his head and caught Enjolras’s gaze. It barley lasted a second but he caught sight of Enjolras’s parted lips and his brightly flashing eyes were the last thing Courfeyac saw before before he crashed their mouths together.

Courfeyrac's mind immediately drifted back to all those times. All those other men. All the kisses he’d had while keeping his eyes closed and pretending. And he realized that this was it, it was really him. Enjolras’s body, Enjolras’s smell, Enjolras’s soft lips against his own. Enjolras’s tongue sweeping against his lower lip. Courfeyrac opened his mouth and holy shit, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. And nothing like he'd thought it would be. Enjolras kept grinding against him in time with the music and Courfeyrac momentarily worried that Enjolras would feel his arousal. He soon realized that his worries were unfounded as there was no mistaking the fact that the reaction was mutual.

Enjolras kept grinding against him, kept trying to get closer as Courfeyrac finally raised his hands, grabbing a hold of those golden curls that he’d longed for for so long. Enjolras made a needy sound in the back of his throat and Courfeyrac acted on instinct, moving them both backwards through the crowd of sweaty, dancing people, never for a second breaking the kiss which seemed to become deeper and more unrefined each second. Suddenly Enjolras’s back hit a concrete surface, Courfeyrac followed him, colliding against him with force. He looked behind Enjolras to see one of those square concrete columns on the middle of the dance floor which seemed to exist at every night club. For a moment Courfeyrac found himself wondering what their purpose actually was. Did they have some sort of architectural value or were they just placed there for people to make out against? In this case, the column certainly filled the purpose of the second alternative.

Enjolras was grasping and pulling at Courfeyrac, seemingly trying to defy physics to bring him even closer. Through his haze, Courfeyrac gathered some semblance of common sense and tore himself away from Enjolras's intoxicating lips. "Fuck" he breathed. But before he could bring himself to speak, he heard Enjolras's voice whispering close to his ear.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've seen you with other guys and how fucking jealous I've been, Courf?"

Courfeyrac didn't spare a second before answering, bucking his hips against Enjolras as he did. "Fucking hell, Enj, I always wished it was you. I always imagined it was you, every time." Enjolras made a guttural noise and attacked Courfeyrac's lips again.

The world seemed to disappear and any thoughts of their surroundings faded away. Courfeyrac had never felt like this before. It was like fireworks and complete serenity at once. It was so much more than he could have ever imagined and for a second, he found himself regretting every single time he'd tried to replace Enjolras with someone else.

Then, suddenly, the music stopped and the lights turned back on. Courfeyrac actually made a noise of surprise. All the impressions of the world around them suddenly resurfaced in his conscience and he took a step back. He didn't dare to look at Enjolras. He was terrified that whatever magic spell his friend had been under would have been lifted. That in the unforgiving fluorescent lights, Enjolras would look at him and see nothing but an old friend. Thank him for helping to distract the girls and then leave. From somewhere in the room, Courfeyrac heard the voice of a bouncer telling everyone to get out. He took a deep breath, and then forced himself to look up. Enjolras was still leaning against the column, looking more ethereal than ever before. And really, what did Courfeyrac expect? If anyone could look good like that, sweaty, disarrayed and panting under fluorescent lights it would be Enjolras. His lips were red and swollen and Courfeyrac had to strain himself not to lean back in.

His mind was racing to find something to say. The best option, he reasoned, was to give Enjolras a chance to back out. A chance to just laugh this off as a stupid thing that could be blamed on alcohol and overly forward women and then go back to being friends. As much as Courfeyrac wanted Enjolras, and he had honestly never wanted him more than he did right now, he'd rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

"Courf" Enjolras suddenly breathed out.

"Yeah?" Courfeyrac's heart was running wild as he awaited the words that where to come.

"Do you want to come home with me?"

Courfeyrac stood blinking for a few moments before he crushed his lips back against Enjolras's with force. "Fuck yeah, I do" he gasped between kisses.

***

The next day Courfeyrac woke up to find nineteen new messages on his phone from their friends. Twelve of them included a photo from a certain dance floor, looking very much like it had been taken from the bar. Courfeyrac was going to kill Jehan. He'd just stared to work out a way to dispose of the body when he heard a mutter next to him. He felt the mattress shift and a head of blonde curls suddenly flipped over beside him he felt kisses being pressed to his chest. Killing Jehan could wait, he reasoned, just a little while.


End file.
